


Withdrawl Symptoms

by Dressed_up_in_gold



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Asphyxiation, Choking, Gross, Kagune Usage, M/M, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Unhealthy Relationships, degredation, dont try this at home kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9573818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dressed_up_in_gold/pseuds/Dressed_up_in_gold
Summary: As a somewhat sequel(?) to my previous work: Sadist's Game____________________________________________________________Uta and Furuta have a bad habit of meeting up to have rough sex and neither are sure who's in control anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, this was supposed to be done long ago but depression and highschool are a hell of a cocktail and this got put on the back burner for a couple weeks.  
> ____________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> Moving on, I'm Gross™ and this is Gross™ but here you are to read this mess
> 
> Enjoy!

It had been seven weeks, seven weeks since Souta had been outed as Furuta Nimura. Four weeks since Donato told, no, ordered, Uta to kill him by any means. Three weeks since Uta had failed to do that and one week since Uta had last found himself in the same bed as his enemy.

Although that statement was humorous considering they had never actually fucked in a bed. There was a rooftop, office room, warehouse and even Uta’s studio but neither one of them had the basic courtesy to invite the other into bed-

Then again, that wasn’t the kind of courtesy you showed to the person assigned to kill you.

It was risky, going against Donato’s orders, but then again Uta had never been too fond of following orders. However if Furuta ever leaked information about the clowns it would come back to bite Uta. As long as Uta could convince Donato that he could get information from Furuta, that he could be of use alive, he could get away with it.

“You better be careful Uta,” Nico had purred one night when they were seated at Itori’s bar. Long, painted nails trailed up Uta’s back slowly, the points tangible through his shirt, “if you give in I’m not sure you’ll be able to ever escape.”

That was the night Uta had first ran into Furuta. He shrugged off Nico’s warning as nothing more than a simple concerned statement. It’s not like he actually needed to worry about Furuta, he was smarter, better and more manipulative. He wasn’t going to fall in love, this wasn’t some cliche story and Uta wasn’t a dumb teenager. Grit crunched under his feet as he stood on the roof of a skyscraper not yet finished.

“Have you finally come to kill me?” Furuta pouted, a pale, pink lip pushing outward slightly.

His black hair shifted slightly in the wind. Uta knew he should've just done it then, not allowed Furuta that split second to sink his hooks into him. Unfortunately before he knew it the world blurred into a mess of hands clawing at skin and mouths desperately trying to find each other. Drilling Furuta into the ground was easy and Uta tried to convince himself he would do it, any second he would produce his kagune and end Furuta, but it never happened.

Their meetings, however, kept happening.

To be a ghoul was dangerous, to love a ghoul was risky and to actually confess your love was insanity.

This wasn't love.

Fascination. That’s what Uta called it, or what he would call it if he ever cared to label things. After the scorching anger of betrayal from Furuta had been quenched in his gut he found the revolting, yet persistent urge to have him. Uta would be lying if he said he didn’t find Furuta interesting, at least.

Some twisted part of Uta convinced himself that he was the one doing the manipulating. He was in complete control, he could stop this whenever he wanted.

He didn’t stop it. It was once, then twice, then again. Each time Uta promising himself that he was done, that he would finally do what he was told. He told himself he wasn’t addicted. He hated himself when he found himself wanting Furuta to contact him. That he felt unsteady when he didn't’ get a text. It was a saturday morning when his phone buzzed to life. By now he didn’t try to memorize Furuta’s numbers, he always used burner phones, the number never stayed the same. When he saw it was from an unknown number his heart skipped a beat and his blood roared in his ears as he picked up the phone to look at the text:

‘Rising Sun Apartment complex, room 341, 9:30 pm’

There was nothing else, simple instructions.

Uta’s skin tingled with sudden anticipation and he nearly felt sick. He could ignore it, never leave and therefore not risk anything. Or he could actually carry out the job given to him. He knew Furuta didn’t expect a reply, he never did.

                        ********

Uta drove through the city, easily finding the quickest route to the apartments. The moon sat high against the nearly black sky, casting its glow down. His eyes glanced at the clock on the dash and he sighed in relief when it read 9:27, he would be right on time. Pulling into the parking lot he exited his car quickly, all but slamming the door shut as he sprinted to the entrance. The marble, tiled floor sparkled, windows stretched up towards the high ceiling, there was only a lonely receptionist who barely cast Uta a glance as he entered the elevators. The elevator didn’t move fast enough for uta but he endured it, watching the light slowly climb to the either floor.

When the doors opened he cautiously stepped out into the hallway, worried about who might be around. The sudden thought that Furuta could of set a trap hit him and it felt like ice had been poured down his back. However the hallway looked rather normal so he stepped out and started scanning the doors until he came across the numbers, 532, in gold against the white door. Inhaling sharply he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the door.

There was a sharp, “Come in,”

Grasping the knob Uta entered the apartment. It was about as spacious as he expected. A large living room was well furnished, and it seemed the prominent colors were red and black in the décor.

“I’m surprised you showed,” Furuta said although Uta could see in his eyes that he wasn’t. The smug satisfaction was prominent. He stood near the sliding, glass doors that lead to a balcony although he wasn’t looking outside anymore, his focus wholly on Uta. The air was heavy, full of anticipation, full of tension that one of them would break soon enough.

“Of course,” Uta found his voice was steadier than he felt, “I still have to kill you.”

Furuta didn’t miss a beat, “That’s what you say every time, how long are you going to act like this is just one of your jobs?”

“This is just a job, information gathering, routine.” Uta’s teeth gritted slightly, as he emphasized the words.

“Oh, is that what you're telling your higher ups?” Furuta tilted his head, a grin splitting his face, “That this is where you attempt to get information that you know damn well I would never give up?”

“That is what _this_ is.” Uta nearly growled. His hands curled into fists and although his anger wasn’t nearly hot enough to cause alarm he sure as hell was going to act like it was.

A sharp laugh broke past Furuta’s lips, “Damn, you are really dedicated to denying this-” he waved his hand in the air.

There was the sound of feet crossing the floor before Uta had grabbed Furuta’s arms and slammed him into the wall,

“It must be confusing,” Furuta continued, unfazed by the aggression that he managed to bring Uta to, “Having your feeling so mixed up, on one hand you want to win- to destroy me for betraying you.” Leaning forward Furuta’s breath was warm against Uta’s cheek, “But you _want_ me, want this.”

Uta inhaled sharply, a mistake on his part because he could smell Furuta. The smell of blood, spices, arousal. He brought Furuta forward only to slam him into the wall again as if to reiterate a silent point.

A small, yet very real, moan slipped past Furuta’s lips. His head lolled back as Uta’s fingers dug into his arms through his black overcoat which he had yet to remove.

“You gonna hurt me again?” Furuta asked, daring to keep eye contact “Maybe if you hurt me bad enough I’ll leave? Is that what you’re trying to do, do you think you can get away from this if I stop wanting you?” His head snapped back when Uta raised a leg between his to roughly grind against his hardened cock.

“You’re sick,” Uta sneered, “Getting some twisted pleasure from this, you freak.”

A bitter laugh came from Furuta, “but _you_ like giving it,”

a small breath,

“If _I’m_ a freak for liking it,”

A gloved hand managed to palm Uta crotch, easily feeling the length growing there, Furuta’s mouth was centimeters away from Uta’s,

“Then what does that make you, Uta?”

There was a stunning, beat of silence before Uta reacted, easily switching their positions and flinging Furuta away from the wall nearly sending him sprawling on the floor.

Before Furuta could regain his balance Uta was on him shoving him face first into the opposite wall making him groan. Uta’s tattooed hands tore at his coat, ripping it off and flinging it towards the couch. He grazed his teeth on the back of Furuta’s neck, intent on taking him apart and leaving him in pieces. Uta shed his black jacket before ripping Furuta’s suspenders down and reaching around to tear at the buttons of his white work shirt, a few buttons popping off and landing on the floor along with the, now significantly, crumpled shirt.

Grabbing a handful of Furuta’s hair Uta yanked his head back and sunk his teeth into the pale skin drawing a sharp moan from Furuta who was resting his gloved hands against the wall. Uta reached around, fiddling with his pants button for a moment before getting his hand beneath the fabric to slip into his boxers and grab the warm length making Furuta’s hips stutter.

Deciding to retaliate, Furuta ground his hips back rubbing his firm ass against Uta’s cock which felt defined enough to make Furuta moan again. It was odd, how they seemed so used to routine that there were barely words spoken. There was a break in the hurried gestures when Uta stepped back to push Furuta’s pants and boxers down in one go which came off after Furuta slipped off his shoes and the items were tossed away.

Uta inhaled sharply and grabbed Furuta by his hips to spin him around.

“Damn,” Uta breathed, eyes taking in Furuta’s toned formed as if for the first time. He was certainly a work of art, even Uta could admit that. Tattooed fingers wrapped around Furuta’s leaking cock, precum already beading at the flushed tip, drawing a light moan from Furuta.

Uta shoved him back against the wall and, finally, connected their mouths. Teeth clashed for a moment before their tongues met. It was messy, the kind of hurried kissing that leaves spit falling down their chins. A cold hand was suddenly tugging at Uta’s shirt and he realized Furuta had stripped off his gloves. Furuta said something through their kissing, Uta guessed it was a very muffled, “off” due to the persistent tugging at his jacket and tank top.

Grinning against Furuta’s mouth Uta released the others cock to shrug off his jacket and quickly pull off his top, revealing the taut muscle painted with black designs. Furuta’s hands were on him in an instant, re mapping all the lines of his torso. Furuta yanked out Uta’s belt and shoved his pants downward, letting him step out of them. His own hand cupped the prominent bulge in Uta’s boxers and moaned as he felt his arousal skyrocket at the thought of Uta being inside him. Their mouths reconnected again again, softly, it was sweet. _Too_ sweet.

Uta found himself ripping away as he grabbed Furuta by the hair and yanked him downward making him yelp. Furuta caught himself on his hands and he huffed at the rough treatment but didn’t complain, if anything it only served to turn him on more. There were fingers pressing into his mouth along with a command,

“Suck.” Furuta didn’t have to look behind him to know that Uta was grinning. Uta groaned under his breath as Furuta’s tongue worked around his two fingers. God, he wished he had the patience to let Furuta worship him with his mouth everywhere. Tonight though, the burning in his gut was persistent and he certainly wasn’t a man of patience.

Removing his fingers from Furuta mouth Uta settled behind Furuta who spread his legs, bowing his back towards the floor to push his ass higher. Uta reached with his free hand into his own boxers, hissing slightly as his cock was exposed to the cool air of the room. He stroked himself slowly, biting his lip to stifle his own moans wanting to pour out. Uta’s trailed his spit slicked fingers between Furuta’s cheeks before circling the hole there, barely pressing down.

The sight of Furuta’s keening into his touch was nearly enough to send Uta over and he found himself gripping the base of his cock to stop himself as he sunk the first finger all the way in, groaning at the tightness. Furuta’s mouth dropped open as Uta wedged his second finger in, scissoring him. There was burning and as much as Furuta knew he shouldn’t like it he moaned, hip moving to try and keep up with Uta’s fingers. HIs cock bobbed against his stomach and he could feel the heat tightening in his stomach. He whined as Uta pulled his fingers nearly out, letting the tips of his fingers catch the rim of his hole before dipping back inside to prod.

“I think I know your body to well,” Uta commented absentmindedly. Furuta jumped when the pads of Uta’s fingers jabbed his prostate making him feel way too close to the edge, but not enough to send him over. The stimulation was rough and quick before Uta was already pulling back.

When his fingers were removed completely Furuta wiggled his hips impatiently and Uta quickly set his hands on his ass to hold him, spreading the cheeks apart. Another debauched moan was wrung out of Furuta when Uta spit against his hole lewdly before rubbing his cock between his cheeks, slicking himself up, barely letting his head catch the stretched hole.

A hand tangled in Furuta’s hair to force his face against the floor before the head of Uta’s cock even pressed against his hole. Uta slowly pressed in at first, letting just the head sink in before he snapped his hips forward, slamming in all the way in one go, carving a path deep inside Furuta.  

“ _Ah_ -ngh” Furuta’s eyes rolled back as Uta filled him and suddenly his vision went white, the suddenness of his orgasm shocking him as the muscles in his thighs spasmed. Cum splatter along the wooden floor under him and he thought he might collapse.

Uta groaned out at the feeling of Furuta tightening around him and wasted no time in pulling out to snap his hips forward again. He could feel himself slipping, how the rush of pleasure made his stomach tighten. There was a dull burning sensation as he felt his kagune start to unfurl, a tentacle reaching around to trail down Furuta’s back, leaving a slight trail of slick. Uta loved watching Furuta’s body, how it tensed at the realization that Uta’s kagune and the worried whimper made his body flush entirely.

The tentacle reached out, and slid under Furuta’s neck to wrap around fully. Furuta let out a strangled moan, his hands scrambling on the floor, nails scraping against the wooden floors. He was practically shaking from head to toe, the forced pleasure of Uta continuing to pound into him, his softening cock was starting to expand again and it nearly felt painful.

“You know,” Uta groaned out, sending his hips upward to force another high pitched yelp from Furuta, “I think you like the threat of me killing you,” Furuta only moaned in response. “You like the rush, killing and hunting ghouls isn’t enough for you,” Uta felt his eyes roll as Furuta clenched around him. His kagune tightened around Furuta’s throat, actually cutting off his breath for a moment, “But _this_ ” A sharp thrust, “get’s you off,”

There was no coherent response, only moans and whines for more.

“God, you’re disgusting,” Uta growled still slamming into Furuta who was practically writhing under him, jaw slack, letting himself be used however Uta pleased. The strangled, helpless whine from Furuta served to prove his point.

This only encouraged Uta to squeeze harder and pick up his pace, he could feel himself reaching his end. Heat raced through his veins, his skin burned from the need to release looking down at Furuta who nearly had tears escaping his eyes.

“You better come, I wanna feel you tightening around me again.” Uta leaned low, purring into Furuta’s ear and continuing to perfectly brush the others prostate while sinking his teeth into the junction between his neck and ear.

Furuta couldn’t help but obey. His body tensing for a final time as he came, spilling onto the floor for the second time, nothing but broken whines leaving him. Uta followed quickly, giving in and lodging deep in Furuta to spill inside of him.

His kagune relaxed first, uncurling from Furuta and retreating. Uta huffed as he brought himself upward and stared at the body below him, blood already pooling in the teeth marks on Furuta’s neck. His fingers gripped Furuta’s hips as he pulled out and Furuta finally slumped against the floor, exhaustion taking over.

Furuta’s deep inhales were the only noise to break the silence as he filled his lungs fully before releasing. It was like all the tension had been drained from the air. He didn’t move from the floor, collapsed against the cool wood and trying to focus his energy on not immediately passing out.

Now, Uta’s skin burned from something akin to self hate, of continuing the cycle he should of ended weeks ago.

_‘Do it’_ his mind screamed, ‘ _kill him, you’ll be free_ ,’

Furuta, unaware of Uta’s thoughts, had the audacity to smile at him, “are you going to kill me?”

“One day.” Uta pulled his hair up into a ponytail, seeming unnervingly nonchalant. One day Furuta would push him too far, or perhaps Donato would get tired of Uta’s avoidance of it and force his hand. Furuta still hadn’t moved from the floor but he huffed through his nose in acknowledgement. He watched as Uta collected his clothes and made a swift and cold exit, cursing him for getting him tangled in this mess.

Furuta knew someday, he would run out of luck.

Sitting up he groaned, deciding he better get to piecing himself back together.

Today, was not that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats you survived that, I'm proud
> 
> I really do love this pairing but I tend to love them in the sort of twisted, unhealthy relationship kinda way (Which if that isn't your cup of tea I understand)
> 
> However, if you wanna see more of them (With Furuta maybe being the dom??) or you just wanna talk about any and all disgusting, kinky, sexcapades hmu on tumblr @sugar-coated-rose  
> ;^)


End file.
